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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25947364">Of Love and Nightmares</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonbornLives2665/pseuds/DragonbornLives2665'>DragonbornLives2665</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Of Coffee and Elementary Schools (Series) [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dragon Age: Inquisition</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, I’m so sorry Josie, I’m so sorry Luna, Modern Thedas, Nightmares, Not Beta Read, Not really “Major Character Death” but kinda is, Set in Chapter 13 of Of Coffee and Elementary Schools</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 07:09:03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,174</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25947364</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonbornLives2665/pseuds/DragonbornLives2665</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Josephine was certain Yrviel was next to her when she went to bed. Why is she alone waking up? Why is the other side of the bed cold? Where is her girlfriend? And why is everything all wrong?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Josephine Montilyet/Female Trevelyan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Of Coffee and Elementary Schools (Series) [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1874212</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Of Love and Nightmares</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I don’t normally have angst ideas and writing, but I thought I’d have a go at it after this idea just wouldn’t leave me.</p><p>As said in the tags, this takes place in Chapter 13: Home, of Of Coffee and Elementary Schools. It fits in in the week timeskip after Yrviel is sent home from the hospital.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">(Josephine)</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I roll over in bed and reach out a searching hand for my love. Finding only cold sheets, I sit up.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Mi amor?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">No answer.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yrviel?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Still no answer.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I get up and as I approach the bedroom door, I can hear a child sobbing.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Luna!”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">My feet carry me as fast as I can to the living room where I find the girl crying into Jorge’s belly and I kneel down next to them. The massive dog lifts his head to look at me and whines softly.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Luna, love, what’s wrong?” I ask her and she lets go of the dog to sob into my chest instead.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Mommy... want mama!” She hiccups and I run my fingers along her back soothingly. “Need mama back!”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s2">‘Back’? Has she gone somewhere?</span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Luna, shhhh... it’s okay... I’m here. I have you.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It takes almost an hour for the girl to calm down and fall asleep from exhaustion. As I sit there on the floor with her, something on the tv stand catches my attention.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No...” I whisper in my confusion as I look upon the picture. “No, that’s not right.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">It is the same picture that is usually there. One of Luna and I on the swings at the local park, but it is all wrong. Yrviel is supposed to be in the swing next to me and she isn’t even in the shot anywhere. And the pure joy I am used to seeing on her daughter is gone and her smile looks very forced. Even </span> <span class="s2"><em>I</em></span> <span class="s1"> look beyond exhausted and trying my hardest to be cheery.</span></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Another picture catches my eye and I look over at the pictures on the wall. There are a lot of the newer pictures that have been added since I have started staying here more. Many of Luna and I or just Luna...</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Where is Yrviel?” I mumble and gently set Luna down so she can snuggle with Jorge while I investigate closer. “She should be right behind me in this one. And here she should be fishing with Luna...”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The only photos I can find with my darling in them are from many months ago and before... <em>before the accident.</em></span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No.” I whisper again and take a step back. “N-no! She survived! She’s alive! She’s around here somewhere!”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The world seems to whirl and spin as I rush through the house looking for any sign of the silver haired woman.</span>
</p><p class="p2">Somehow I end up in front of the calendar by the sliding glass door to the backyard.</p><p class="p2">”It can’t be near Yrviel’s birthday. It is still...” I look outside and see green grass and plants in bloom, rustling in the late spring breezes. There is no snow anywhere. “the middle of winter...”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I continue my search, in a much bigger hurry this time. When I reach the garage I nearly fall down the few steps leading into the room in shock.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What the fuck?!” I swear as I stare at the completely destroyed car where my suv is supposed to be sitting.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Upon closer inspection I realize this is exactly what my girlfriend’s car looked like when I went to help her empty it of her belongings at the junkyard.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No, no, no. <em>NO</em>! Why is this here?!” My voice rises in pitch and I hurry back inside the house. “What is this? What is happening?!”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I rush back to the bedroom and try to find my girlfriend’s braces she needs to wear until she gets farther in physical therapy. They are no where to be found.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">My next stop is the office and what I see on my desk breaks me.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No! No! NO!”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">All over the surface are sympathy cards from friends and family. But those aren’t what makes me fall apart. That would be a picture clearly drawn by Luna of me and her crying with Yrviel standing next to us with angel wings.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Then I notice the piece of paper next to the picture.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“In loving memory...” I read before my voice cracks and I start sobbing.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I do not know how long I sit there, crumpled on the home office’s floor when I hear it.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Babe?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yrviel?” I peak my head up over the desk, but I am still alone and it brings my sobbing back twice as hard.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Josie?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>No</em>. You aren’t here...”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Josie!”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>No</em>!” I curl tighter on myself as I continue to cry, trying to block out the obvious hallucination of my dead girlfriend’s voice.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<b>JOSEPHINE! WAKE UP!</b>”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I sit up with a gasp and find I am back in bed... but not alone this time.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yrviel! Mi amor!” I launch myself at the woman and she catches me with a hiss as I cling to her. “You’re alive!”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Josie, what? Y-yeah, I’m alive.” She carefully peels me away from her to look down at me and I feel tears of relief fill my eyes.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She is here. <em>Alive</em>. Scars and all. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It was a nightmare, honey. I’m okay. I am here. Luna is in her bedroom with Jorge.” The woman is soothing me as she gently wipes at the tears that spill over onto my cheeks.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I cling back onto her and bury my face in her neck, the smell of her and her soap helping to calm me.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I-it was terrible.” I eventually manage to say and lean back enough to rest my forehead against hers. “Y-you...”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s okay if you do not want to talk about it.” She tells me and kisses me sweetly, seeming to pour her love into the kiss.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You... hadn’t survived the crash.” I spit out after we part, needing to tell her what had terrified me so much. “Luna and I were here, in the house, alone... It was already spring... C-close to your birthday...”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">“Maker, Josie...” My girlfriend forces back tears of her own and pulls me to her to squeeze me tight. “I am fine. I am here and I am </span> <span class="s2"><em>not</em></span> <span class="s1">leaving you and Luna alone like that </span> <span class="s2"><em>ever.</em></span><span class="s1"> I promise.”</span></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Mi amor...” I say sadly and pull away to look at her. “You cannot promise that. Anything could happen...”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">“No.” She says seriously and pulls me into another kiss, leaving us both breathing heavy when we part. “I </span> <span class="s2"><em>can</em></span> <span class="s1"> and </span> <span class="s2"><em>will</em></span> <span class="s1"> promise this. I love you, Josephine Cherette Montilyet. With all my heart.”</span></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I love you, too...” The serious moment is broken when I laugh a little, too emotionally drained to suppress it.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What?” My girlfriend asks and she starts laughing a little as well.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I do not know your middle name, mi amor.” I tell her and draw a truly shocked laugh from her.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It is Lynn, babe.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yrviel Lynn Trevelyan?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, I know it doesn’t flow as smoothly as Josephine Cherette Montilyet.” She laughs as she flops back down among our pillows, hissing a bit as her body and injuries settle into the softness.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It is beautiful... just like you.” I tell her honestly and curl up against her side as close as I can get.</span>
</p>
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